#hq crack

[barelyalivesstuff]

Kenma's Shy—⁠☆

Summary: Kenma's too shy to even hold a eye contact with you and you expect him to be nonchalant—even when you are wearing his hoodie!?

Warnings: NSFW content, MDI, f!reader, reader is kinda oblivious, everyone is aged up, inappropriate thoughts, masturbating and shy Kenma(might be canonically incorrect).

Charcters: Kenma Kozume.

A/N: Yep it's me writing smut >:D

You're spending the night at his place again—totally normal now, crashing on his bed after a long gaming session, wearing one of his oversized hoodies because "it's comfy".

Kenma's trying to focus on his stream, headphones on, chatting minimally with chat like usual. But you're sprawled out behind him on the bed, scrolling on your phone, humming softly, legs kicking idly. Every little movement—the way the hoodie rides up your thighs, how you stretch and arch your back without a care—it's killing him slowly.

He keeps his hands strictly on the controller or keyboard. No touching. Not even a casual brush. He's too shy, too afraid he'll lose it if he starts. But god, he wants to. His mind keeps wandering to how soft you'd feel, how you'd sound if he just...

Chat notices he's zoning out more than usual. "Kenma lagging irl?" someone spams. He mutters a quick "brb" and ends the stream early—unheard of for him.

You look up, oblivious. "Everything okay? You seem kinda tense."

He nods too fast, hair falling over his burning face. "...Yeah. Just tired." Lie. He's aching, hard under his desk from hours of stolen glances at you. But he can't say that. Can't touch you. Not yet. Why? Because he's too shy to!

You yawned, patting the bed. "Come cuddle then? I'll be your pillow"

He nearly chokes. "I-I'll shower first," he mumbles, bolting to the bathroom before you can see the obvious strain in his sweats.

Door locked, he leans against the sink, breathing heavy. You're right there, so close, so unaware of the effect you have—how every innocent thing you do winds him up tighter. He can't hold back anymore.

Hand slipping down, he bites his lip hard to stay quiet, eyes squeezed shut as he strokes himself fast and desperate. Imagining it's your hand, your mouth, you on top of him whispering his name. Your oblivious smiles flash in his mind—the way you lean into him without realizing, how you steal his clothes and look so damn good in them.

It doesn't take long. He's too worked up, muffling a soft groan into his arm as he comes hard, hips jerking, your name barely a whisper on his lips.

God...how can he cum so much by just thinking of you! It's so embarassing!

After, he cleans up quick, splashes cold water on his face to kill the flwsh. When he slips back into the room, you're half-asleep, smiling drowsily as he finally slides in beside you—still keeping a careful distance, hands firmly under the blanket.

You scoot closer anyway, nuzzling into his chest without a clue. "Better?" you murmur.

He nods, voice shaky. "...Yeah." But inside? He's already counting down to the next time you'll unknowingly drive him crazy enough to hide away again and touch himself.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Love-Sick Kuroo—⁠☆

Summary: Kuroo is disgustingly, painfully, stupidly, and disastrously in love with you.

Warnings: fluff, f!reader, Kuroo in love and lots of fluff.

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurō.

A/N: Thank you for the request love <33.

Kuroo Tetsurō is not subtle about being in love with you.

At all.

Never has been. Never will be.

It starts with the way his attention gravitates toward you like a magnet with zero self-control. You’ll be in a room full of people—loud, busy, chaotic—and somehow Kuroo’s eyes will always find you first. He doesn’t even try to play it cool. If you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away. He just smirks, lazy and pleased, like yeah, I was looking. What about it?

“God,” he mutters once, chin propped on his hand, eyes following you as you laugh at something Kenma said. “You see that?”

Kenma doesn’t even look up from his phone. “If you’re talking about her breathing, blinking, or existing—yes. You’re being weird again.”

Kuroo beams. “I know.”

He is down horrendous.

Everyone knows it. Nekoma knows it. Bokuto knows it (and announces it loudly). Even strangers know it, because Kuroo has the self-restraint of a man who has already decided you are it for him.

He leans in too close when he talks to you, fingers absentmindedly brushing your wrist like it’s second nature. When you sit beside him, his body automatically angles toward yours, knee fucking4 yours on purpose. If you yawn, he’s already offering his shoulder. If you shiver, his jacket is halfway off before you can protest.

“Baby,” he says easily, casually, like the word belongs there. Like it’s always belonged there.

Someone once asks him, half-joking, “You ever get tired of flirting?”

Kuroo blinks. “Flirting? Oh—no, that’s just me being in love.”

You nearly choke on your drink.

He’s disgusting.

Hopeless.

Perfect.

What really gets people is how soft he is about it. Kuroo Tetsurō—sarcastic, teasing, sharp-tongued—is suddenly all warm hands and quieter smiles when it comes to you. He listens to you like every word matters.

Remembers everything. The way you take your drink. The song you mentioned once, months ago. The offhand comment about liking cats more than dogs (he sends you cat videos at 2 a.m. with no shame).

When you’re tired, he notices before you say anything.

When you’re upset, he goes uncharacteristically still, focused, gentle.

And when you tease him about it—because of course you do—he doesn’t even deny it.

“You’re so whipped,” you laugh one evening, poking his cheek.

He catches your finger, presses a kiss to your knuckle, eyes fond and unguarded. “Yeah. Completely. Ruined for anyone else. Tragic, really.”

There is no embarrassment in him. None.

Just devotion.

The worst (best) part? He adores showing you off.

Not in a possessive way—never that—but in the way someone shows off their favorite thing in the world because how could they not?

“That’s her,” he says proudly to anyone who’ll listen. “Isn’t she incredible?”

You’ll try to shush him, cheeks warm, but he only laughs and pulls you closer, arm draped around your shoulders like it belongs there.

“You think I’m gonna shut up about you?” he murmurs into your hair. “Absolutely not.”

At night, when it’s just the two of you, the bravado softens even more. He traces slow patterns on your back, thumb warm and steady, like he’s grounding himself through you.

“You know I’m serious, right?” he says quietly once, voice lower, real. “About you. About us.”

You look at him, at the man who has never once pretended he didn’t care, whose love is loud and obvious and unwavering.

“I know,” you say.

He smiles—soft, crooked, entirely yours—and presses his forehead to yours.

“Good,” he whispers. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

Kuroo Tetsurō is many things.

Clever. Annoying. Charismatic.

But above all?

He is so, so, devastatingly in love with you—and he wears it like a badge of honor.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Weeding chaos—⁠☆

Summary: How they react to your spicy polaroids.

Warnings: fluff, suggestive(?), reader is female.

Characters: Bokuto Kōtarō, Akaashi Keiji, Kuroo Tetsurō, Atsumu Miya, Sakusa Kiyoomi & Sugawara Kōshi.

A/N: Thanks for the request dear, Now I gotta write something spicy >:)).

• Bokuto Kōtarō*°.

Bokuto is already riding the high of the century—wedding tux, adrenaline, everyone hyping him up—so when you slide the Polaroid into his palm, he doesn’t even process it at first.

Then he looks down.

His smile freezes.

His ears go bright red.

“—WAIT.”

He looks at you. Back at the photo. Back at you again. His grip tightens like he’s afraid someone might steal it.

“YOU— YOU CAN’T JUST—” his voice drops, reverent, almost shaky, “I’M SUPPOSED TO GO STAND AT THE ALTAR LIKE THIS?”

He laughs, breathless and helpless, pulling you in by the waist with zero shame.

“That’s my wife,” he says proudly, even though his brain is clearly gone.

He keeps the Polaroid in his inner pocket.

Absolutely refuses to give it back.

• Akaashi Keiji*°.

Akaashi accepts the Polaroid calmly. Too calmly.

He studies it in silence, eyes scanning with the same focus he uses in volleyball—except his ears slowly turn pink. Then red. Then dangerously red.

“…You did this on purpose,” he says quietly.

When he finally looks up, there’s something dark and affectionate in his eyes. Controlled. Devastating.

“You realize,” he murmurs, folding the photo carefully and slipping it into his jacket, “that I still have to give a speech.”

He leans in just enough for only you to hear.

“I won’t forget this.”

He absolutely does not.

• Kuroo Tetsurō*°.

Kuroo grins the second you hand it to him. He’s already expecting trouble.

“Wow, bold choice for a wedding gift—”

Then he sees it.

The grin turns slow. Dangerous. His thumb brushes the edge of the photo like he’s savoring it.

“…You’re evil,” he says fondly.

He lifts a brow at you. “Trying to make sure I can’t focus on anything else today?”

He tucks the Polaroid into his vest, right over his heart.

“Congratulations,” he whispers, leaning close, “you succeeded.”

The smirk never leaves his face for the rest of the ceremony.

• Atsumu Miya*°.

Atsumu makes a sound.

Not a word. Just a sharp inhale and a stunned, “—WHAT?”

He stares. Blinks. Stares harder.

“Yer kiddin’ me,” he mutters, then looks up at you like he’s been personally attacked. “On OUR wedding day??”

His ears are flaming. His grin is feral.

He immediately tries to hide the Polaroid—then panics when Osamu walks by and shoves it into his pocket like it’s contraband.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging you closer by the fingers.

“An’ you’re gonna pay for this later.”

• Sakusa Kiyoomi*°.

Sakusa hesitates before touching it. Of course he does.

He takes it carefully, eyes narrowing in suspicion… then widening just slightly.

His shoulders stiffen.

He swallows.

“…This was unnecessary,” he says flatly.

A pause.

“…Extremely unnecessary.”

He folds it with surgical precision and places it in his jacket, posture rigid, cheeks faintly pink. He refuses to look at you for a full minute.

When he finally does, his voice is low and very serious.

“You’ve compromised my composure.”

There is no complaint in his tone. Only promise.

• Sugawara Kōshi*°.

Sugawara gasps like he’s been handed a scandal.

“Oh my—” he laughs, covering his mouth, eyes sparkling as he looks between the Polaroid and you. “On our wedding day? You’re bold.”

He softens immediately, though—thumb brushing the photo lovingly.

“You look beautiful,” he says quietly, voice warm and sincere. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Then he leans in, smiling sweetly.

“But I’m absolutely farming this for our bedroom.”

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Camp—CHAOS!—⁠☆

Summary: A simple camp trip—except it's KARASUNO!

Warnings: fluff, crack, Karasuno x reader, reader is Manager no.3, No use of she, he or they, shouting, chaos and lots of fluff.

Characters: Karasuno.

A/N: God my writter's block>:(. Thank you for the request dear :))

No one remembers whose idea it was.

That alone should’ve been the first red flag.

All you know is that you’re standing in the middle of a forest with Karasuno’s volleyball team, a single working tent, three broken ones, zero signal, and Hinata Shoyo enthusiastically holding a bag of charcoal like it personally encouraged him.

“This is gonna be so fun!” he announces.

“I hope!.” Yachi adds.

You lock eyes with Ukai.

He looks…tired already.

The bus ride starts off normal enough—Tanaka and Nishinoya arguing over snacks, Takeda trying to maintain peace like a camp counselor who’s one inconvenience away from retirement, and Daichi sitting at the front with the quiet, ominous calm of a man who knows he’ll be disciplining at least five people today.

While Ukai tries to over-speed a car.

You sit with the managers, clipboard in hand, reviewing the checklist.

“Tents?”

“Check.”

“Food?”

“Check.”

“First-aid kit?”

“Check.”

You hesitate. “…Common sense?”

Everyone looks away.

The moment you arrive, chaos unfolds like it’s been rehearsed.

Kageyama is convinced tents are “self-explanatory” and refuses instructions, only to somehow assemble his upside down.

“Why is the door on the roof?” Hinata asks, peeking inside.

“I followed the diagram,” Kageyama snaps.

“You followed it emotionally,” Tsukishima mutters.

Nishinoya and Tanaka try to “help” Asahi, which results in the tent collapsing entirely and trapping all three of them underneath.

You hear Asahi apologizing to the tent.

Sugawara crouches beside you. “So. On a scale of one to ten—”

“—don’t finish that sentence,” you say, watching Hinata sprint past with a tent pole like a javelin.

Against your better judgment, the team insists on cooking together.

Ukai assigns stations.

This is mistake number seventeen.

Hinata and Kageyama are on fire duty. The fire grows aggressive.

“Is it supposed to be that tall?” you ask.

The flames crackle ominously.

Hinata beams. “It’s strong!”

Yamaguchi squints. “It might be too strong.”

The grill promptly tips over.

You and Kiyoko drag it back while Takeda delivers a lecture that sounds suspiciously like a war speech.

Tsukishima is put in charge of vegetables. He cuts them with surgical precision and zero joy.

“These are uneven,” Hinata complains.

“They’re vegetables, not limbs” Tsukishima replies. “They won’t cry, unlike you.”

“Ohhhhhh, Tsukki rocks! Hinata's shock!” Tanaka screams.

“...Tanaka, are you a 5 year old?” Ukai questioned wearily.

“No?”

Somehow, Bokuto is not here, and yet this still feels like a Bokuto-level event.

Halfway through cooking, you realize something is wrong.

“Where’s the salt?”

Silence.

Everyone freezes.

Slowly, all heads turn to Ennoshita.

“…I thought Narita had it.”

Narita gasps. “I thought Kinoshita had it...”

Kinoshita freezes, “What’s salt?”

Daichi closes his eyes.

Sugawara pats his shoulder. “You’re doing great.”

They try to substitute with soy sauce. Then sugar. Then nothing.

The food tastes like regret.

Yamaguchi eats it anyway and says it’s good. No one believes him.

Just as things start to calm down—

It rains.

Not gently. Not poetically.

It attacks.

Tents leak immediately.

Hinata’s sleeping bag is soaked. He doesn’t care.

“This is like an adventure anime!” he says, splashing through a puddle.

Kageyama slips.

You hear a thud, followed by, “I’m fine.”

He is not fine.

Tsukishima hands him a towel without comment, which is the closest thing to affection he’ll show all weekend.

You help Kiyoko and Yachi move supplies under the one tent that hasn’t betrayed you.

“This,” Kiyoko says calmly, “is why I prefer indoors.”

Miraculously, they manage to relight the fire.

Everyone gathers around, damp, exhausted, and quieter than usual.

Sugawara starts telling stories. Tanaka exaggerates. Nishinoya adds sound effects. Yachi gets scared and Hinata listens like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You pass out marshmallows.

Kageyama burns his.

Hinata eats it anyway.

Asahi finally relaxes, smiling softly, and for a moment—just a moment—it feels peaceful.

Then Tanaka screams.

“A BUG—”

Everyone scatters.

Daichi yells. Sugawara laughs. Tsukishima sighs so hard it could power a generator.

You help restore order while internally accepting that this will never be a calm memory.

Later, when most of them are asleep (or pretending to be), you sit outside the tent, checking one last time that everyone’s okay.

Takeda joins you.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. “This…got out of hand.”

You smile. “It’s Karasuno. If it hadn’t gone wrong, I’d be worried.”

He chuckles, relieved.

From inside the tent, Hinata sleep-talks about quick attacks.

Kageyama tells him to shut up—half-asleep.

You pull your jacket tighter, listening to the forest and the soft sounds of your team being… your team.

Messy. Loud. Exhausting.

And somehow perfect.

The Next Morning

They leave the campsite worse than they found it—but not for lack of trying.

Everyone is tired, muddy, and smells like smoke.

On the bus ride home, they’re quieter.

Hinata leans against the window, smiling.

“Let’s do this again sometime!”

A collective groan fills the bus.

You catch Kiyoko’s eye.

She pauses.

“…Maybe.”

And somehow, that feels like a victory.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Double-Trouble—⁠☆

Summary: Your beloved boyfriend turns into 2!?So it means double kisses..?

Warnings: fluff, Akaashi x reader, no use of she, he or they, Akaashi becames into 2 Akaashi, chaos and lots of fluff.

Characters: Akaashi Keiji.

A/N: Thank you for the request, and honestly Akaashi was the best person for this scenario ^^.

It isn’t dramatic.

That’s the first thing you notice.

No lightning, no yelling, no Bokuto screaming about destiny—just Akaashi standing in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, quietly rereading a volleyball article on his phone while water boils behind him.

And then—

“There appear to be…two of me.”

His voice is calm. Too calm.

You blink.

Once. Twice.

There are, in fact, two Akaashis standing side by side.

Same posture. Same thoughtful eyes. Same faint crease between the brows that only appears when he’s processing something unusual but refusing to panic.

One of them adjusts his glasses, the other says, evenly, “This is inconvenient.”

You sit down very slowly.

“Why are you both so…normal about this?”

They glance at each other.

“I don’t think panicking would help,” Akaashi 1 says.

“And Bokuto-san would panic enough for all of us,” Akaashi 2 adds.

They sigh at the same time.

It’s a little terrifying how in sync they are.

The first thing they do is make sure you’re okay.

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?” one asks gently, crouching in front of you.

The other places a mug of tea into your hands—already cooled just enough to drink. You didn’t even notice him pouring it.

“You don’t have to react right away,” he says. “We can…sit like this for a moment.”

Their concern isn’t doubled in volume.

It’s layered.

One watches your face carefully, memorizing every micro-expression.

The other rubs small, grounding circles into your wrist like he’s done a hundred times before.

You swallow.

“So…I have two boyfriends now?”

They exchange a glance.

A beat.

“…If that’s how you want to define it,” one says carefully.

“But nothing changes unless you’re comfortable,” the other adds immediately.

You start noticing it slowly.

One Akaashi is slightly more externally attentive—he notices when you fidget, when you forget to eat, when your shoulders tense. He’s the one who wordlessly drapes a blanket over you and nudges a snack closer.

The other is more verbally reassuring—soft reminders, quiet check-ins, low murmurs of “you did well today” when you least expect it.

Neither is louder.

Neither is colder.

They just…divide the care in a way that makes it feel endless.

When you’re tired, one sits beside you while the other tidies up without being asked.

When you’re sad, one listens while the other holds you.

When you laugh, they both look at you like you’re something fragile and miraculous.

The first time it happens, you’re sitting between them on the couch, knees tucked up, half-assleep.

One Akaashi presses a kiss to your temple.

The other hesitates—just a fraction—before brushing a kiss to your knuckles.

They pause.

“…Is this okay?” one asks quietly.

Your heart feels like it might burst.

“Yes.”

So it becomes small things.

A kiss on your forehead from one while the other kisses your cheek.

One tucks your hair behind your ear; the other presses a brief, warm kiss there after.

They never compete.

They coordinate, like setters sharing a court.

One day Bokuto visits.

This is a mistake.

He stares at them.

Looks left. Looks right.

“…Akaashi?”

“Yes.”

“…Akaashi?”

“Yes.”

Bokuto gasps. Loudly. Full on dramatic gasp.

“YOU CLONED YOURSELF?!”

“It was not intentional,” both Akaashis say in unison.

Bokuto clutches his chest. “THIS IS THE MOST AKAASHI THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED—SO DO YOU—DO YOU HAVE STILL USE A MIRROR!? OR YOU FIX EACH OTHER!?”

“That's not how it works Bokuto-san...”

Later, when Bokuto dramatically declares that you are “THE LUCKIEST PERSON ALIVE,” both Akaashis apologize to you for his volume.

You laugh until your stomach hurts.

At Night

This is when it really hits you.

You’re half-asleep, warm and safe, one Akaashi behind you, the other in front—careful to give you space, like they’re afraid of overwhelming you even now.

One murmurs, “Sleep well.”

The other whispers, “We’re here.”

And for the first time, you think—

Oh.

This isn’t strange.

It’s just Akaashi.

Twice the thoughtfulness.

Twice the quiet love.

Twice the steady presence choosing you, every single day.

And somehow—It’s still perfectly, truly him—your little Keiji.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Thunder Boy 2.0—⁠☆

Summary: Nishinoya is head over heels for Saeko's friend and—SHE'S A LIBERO!?

Warnings: fluff, Nishinoya x female!reader (same age), reader is Saeko's friend and is a libero, love at first sight and lots of fluff.

Characters: Nishinoya Yū.

A/N: Thank you for the request love <3. Thunder Boy (Similar)

It’s after a long, exhausting game—Karasuno’s still sweaty, half-wiped out, but buzzing with that post-match adrenaline. Everyone is slowly making their way through the back corridors of the stadium toward the exit.

Then Tanaka stops short.

“Uh… guys? Is that—MY SISTER?!”

And sure enough, Saeko is leaned against a wall, arms crossed, sunglasses on indoors like she owns the building.

Daichi blinks. “Um. Saeko-san, were you… waiting for us?”

She snorts.

“Please. I have a social life.”

Every Karasuno boy freezes.

A social life?

SAEKO??

Saeko has friends??? Outside of intimidating teachers and motorcycle buddies?

Tsukishima actually whispers, “Impossible.”

But she waves them off. “Relax, I’m waiting for someone else.”

Someone. Else.

That alone is enough to throw Tanaka and Noya into side-by-side dramatic despair.

The Footsteps, at first, it’s faint—like a patter. Then a rhythm. Then louder. Louder.

And then—

“SAAAAAAEEEEEEEEKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Every head snapped towards the far hallway an instant before the outside door EXPLODES open.

You don’t walk through it. Nah

Instead, you launch out of it.

Half a head shorter than Nishinoya, you come sprinting like someone fired you out of a cannon, your gym bag flapping and your hair barely keeping up.

“SAEKO!! WE WON—WE ABSOLUTELY THRASHED THEM—OH MY GOD LISTEN LISTEN—”

And then you do it.

You jump.

Legs in the air, hands grabbing her shoulders, full on Nishinoya-style pounce.

Saeko doesn’t even flinch—just laughs and steadies you with terrifying big-sister strength.

Behind you, the rest of your team drags themselves through the doors and collectively groans,

“[Name]-chan PLEASE stop jump-attacking people—”

“We told her she could tell Saeko after COOLING DOWN—”

“She did not cool down...”

“Not even for one second.”

Saeko pats your back. “So? How bad was the destruction?”

You pull back, eyes blazing.

“They didn’t even TOUCH our rhythm. The libero on their side looked like he wanted to quit volleyball and start farming.”

Saeko grins proudly. “That’s my girl.”

Karasuno is in absolute, total awe.

Hinata whispers, “She’s so COOL…”

Noya, though?

Noya is staring like he just witnessed the divine.

You turn your head—talking a mile per minute about the last rally—and then you freeze mid-sentence.

“Oh! Wait. I know you!”

Nishinoya Yukine.exe crashes.

His soul leaves his body. His knees flex like he might pass out.

“M-me?? You—you know me??”

You practically beam.

“You played for Chidoriyama! Right? I went there too!”

He makes a faint wheezing noise.

Then you lean in, eyes sparkly with recognition.

“Your receives were AMAZING. Seriously, watching you was like watching pure instinct and perfect timing merge into one human! And that dive-receive-roll-up moment you pulled in the second set—my GOD, it was gorgeous!”

Noya freezes.

Tanaka grabs his shoulders to keep him upright.

You continue, fully unaware you’re landing one kill shot after another, “And your center of gravity control?? Beautiful. You’re so quick into low positions—your hip drop is like—like—HOW? And your balance recovery is insane, you barely slide out of the lane!”

Noya’s heartbeat is now a dangerous volume.

He croaks, “You…understand libero techniques…”

You tilt your head, grinning like it’s obvious.

“I am a libero, Noya.”

While you’re talking, the rest of your team has finally caught up.

The moment Hinata sees your team’s shortest spiker—Koiri—bright smile, hair sticking up, vibrating with energy—they immediately start bouncing in place together like a matched pair of hyperactive sparrows.

Kageyama locks eyes with your setter—Miyo.

Your setter locks eyes with him.

They both scoff.

In sync.

And turn away at the exact same angle.

Suga and your vice-captain—Katsune— exchange the same “we technically keep everyone alive” sigh.

Tsukishima and your tall blocker—Okuda— share a “don’t talk to me” aura that is identical.

Yamaguchi and your serving—Yami—specialist start shyly comparing serve toss heights.

It’s honestly like watching two identical teams in a parallel dimension.

Daichi turns to Saeko.

“…Where did you find them?”

Saeko shrugs. “They found me. I was minding my business and then this gremlin”—she points at you—“asked if I could drive her home because she got scolded again for practicing too long.”

You wave proudly.

“I WAS WORKING ON MY SPLIT STEP AND FOOT SWIVEL—”

Your leader—Amane— in the distance, “She was. For two hours.”

Hinata is the first to blurt it out, “WE SHOULD PLAY EACH OTHER!!”

Koiri immediately shrieks, “YESSSSS!!!”

The setters on both teams try to say “no” but their dwarfs have already run toward the court entrance.

Within five minutes?

You’re all on a spare court, shoes back on, balls flying everywhere.

A mini scrimmage forms.

Half serious, half chaos.

Even Saeko is yelling like she’s watching nationals.

Between rallies, Noya practically trips over himself getting to you.

“A-actually—if you liked that receive, I—I could show you? If you—uh—want—no pressure, obviously—”

You nod instantly, “YES. Teach me!”

He stops breathing for a moment.

You two drop into receive positions, and he explains the sequence, “Momentum management, right? You don’t force it—you guide it. Instead of slamming the floor, you let your shoulder take the angle and then roll through your hip…”

You mimic the motion, listening closely.

Noya demonstrates Rolling Thunder once—perfect form, smooth roll, popping up in a fluid motion.

“Like that!”

You stare, captivated.

“That. Was. ART.”

Noya almost combusts.

Then you try it.

Your landing is a little uneven—but good. Controlled.

Noya beams.

“That was really good for a first try!”

You grin. “Again!”

And you two keep doing it—over and over—until both teams drift over to watch.

Hinata’s screaming.

Koiri’s screaming louder.

Tsukki says “you’re all idiots” but doesn’t leave.

The sun is setting by the time practice-court chaos winds down. Everyone is exhausted in the best way.

Saeko slings an arm around you.

“Food?”

Your entire team nods so fast it looks rehearsed.

Noya grabs a towel, face red, chest puffed with new pride.

“If—if you’re okay with it…we should all go. Together.”

You smile, big and earnest.

“Of course.”

Hinata and Koiri fist-bump so aggressively they wince.

Both teams pack into Saeko’s favorite late-night diner—half of them ordering enough food to bankrupt a small country, the other half bickering over who gets the window seat.

You sit across from Noya.

Noya sits very, very straight.

And when you grin at him again, that little thought crosses his mind:

Oh no.

I’m doomed.

I’m in love.

And judging from how brightly you keep looking back at him, maybe—just maybe—you might be a little doomed too.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Argument—⁠☆

Summary: Hinata begs, yearns and then combusts.

Warnings: fluff, Hinata x reader, reader is pissed, dying Hinata and lots of fluff.

Characters: Hinata Shoyo.

A/N: Thank u for the request dear <3

You didn’t expect the argument to end like this.

You’d only crossed your arms and said, “Fine. If you’re going to act like that, you’re not getting any physical affection from me for a while.”

In your head, “a while” meant…maybe a day.

To cool him off after he skipped two dates to go to practice without telling you.

But to Hinata Shoyo, fully grown, fully dramatic, and fully obsessed with you at age twenty-two—

It sounded like the end of the world.

At first, he just stared at you, eyes wide, lips parted, like you’d told him the sun wasn’t rising tomorrow.

Then—

“…W-Wait. Wait, wait, wait—[Name]—”

And before you could even blink, he dropped to his knees.

Just dropped, hands on your hips like he’d lost all strength in his legs.

“[Name], please—please don’t do this to me,” he said, voice high and cracking, like you’d actually murdered him. “I’ll do anything. I swear. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.”

You sighed. “Shoyo—”

“But I am being serious!” he insisted, tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt like a guilty puppy. “I messed up. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you about the extra practice. I should’ve texted. I know, I know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your stomach.

“I hate it when you’re upset with me.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

“Hina—”

“You can’t take away affection,” he whispered, voice dropping low and heartbreakingly soft. “You know I’ll die. Do you want me to die?”

You snorted despite yourself. “You’re not going to die.”

He looked up at you from the floor, eyes way too big, way too glossy, and way too dramatic.

“I am. I’m literally dying right now. Look.”

He pointed at his chest.

“Heartbroken.”

You rolled your eyes, but his hands were warm, trembling just barely. His bottom lip jutted out just a little—he wasn’t faking all of it.

You brushed your fingers through his hair. He practically melted on the spot.

Then he whispered it again, breath hot against your skin:

“I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you, [Name]… just don’t take it away.”

Your cheeks flushed.

He leaned in closer, wrapping his arms slowly around your waist.

“…Please,” he added, softer, the slightest rasp in his voice. “I want to make it up to you. Tell me how.”

You exhaled through your nose.

“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered.

His eyes lit up instantly—she’s cracking, she’s cracking—and he nodded frantically.

“Yeah! Yes! I’m dramatic! I’ll be anything you want. Just—just don’t be mad.”

You let the silence hang for a moment, letting him sweat.

Then you lifted his chin with your fingers.

“Fine.”

His breath stopped.

“But you’re cleaning up the kitchen after dinner tonight.”

“I’ll do all the dishes,” he said immediately. “The whole sink. I’ll even scrub the stove. Just— can I have a hug now?”

“…Maybe.”

He groaned like you’d stabbed him.

“[Name], please—”

You sighed loudly but bent down anyway and opened your arms.

Hinata launched himself into the hug so fast you nearly toppled over, arms wrapped tight around you, face buried in your neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice relieved and warm and a little shaky. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

And maybe he was dramatic.

Maybe stupidly sweet.

Maybe a little too willing to fall apart in front of you.

But he held you like you were the only warmth on earth, and honestly—

You couldn’t stay mad if you tried.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!

[barelyalivesstuff]

Love-sick Noya—⁠☆

Summary: Nishinoya swears that you can control the weather and that you are his goddess in a human form.

Warnings: fluff, Nishinoya x female!reader, reader is Hinata’s older sister, shouting and lots of fluff.

Characters: Nishinoya Yū.

A/N: Thank you for the request dear.

Hinata was bouncing. Actually bouncing.

Like a pogo stick with too much sugar.

Everyone else was dead from practice, but Hinata was vibrating with excitement.

He announced proudly, “Guys, my sister is coming to pick me up!”

Daichi blinked. “You have a sister?”

Tanaka froze mid sip.

Nishinoya’s head snapped up like a startled cat.

Tsukishima sighed. “Of course the little orange menace has a relative.”

“She’s not a menace” Hinata insisted. “She’s super nice. And really pretty.”

Pretty.

The word didn’t just hit Nishinoya

It detonated.

Tanaka turned slowly. “Pretty?”

Noya stared into the distance like a soldier remembering war. “Pretty like Kiyoko-san pretty?”

Kiyoko, confused but radiant as always, looked up from her clipboard.

Hinata shrugged. “People say that a lot. Yeah.”

Tanaka choked.

Noya pressed both hands to his chest like he was in a musical.

“Hinata…is she older or younger?”

“Older.”

Both Tanaka and Nishinoya dropped to their knees like they had just witnessed divinity.

“The universe is testing me” Noya whispered dramatically.

Daichi rubbed his temples. “You two seriously need help.”

But the footsteps were already approaching the gym.

A breeze slipped through the door.

And that was all Nishinoya needed.

He straightened with awe in his eyes.

“Tanaka…do you feel that?”

“The air has shifted” Tanaka replied solemnly.

Tsukishima stared at them like observing wildlife. “It’s literally a breeze.”

Then you stepped into the doorway.

And drama became reality.

You entered with a warm smile.

“Shoyo, sorry I’m late. Traffic was insane.”

Hinata ran to you like a baby duck.

“Guys, this is my big sister!”

You waved. Tanaka’s brain emptied. Noya’s brain combusted.

You bowed politely.

“Thanks for taking care of my brother. I know he’s…energetic.”

Tsukishima muttered “That’s a word.”

You flicked Hinata’s forehead. “Be nice.”

“So you’re all his teammates?” you asked.

Daichi stepped forward like a responsible dad.

“Yes. Nice to meet you. I’m Sawamura Daichi.”

Then you turned toward the rest.

And Nishinoya felt a spotlight turn on above him.

Angels sang.

The wind blew.

It was over for him.

Tanaka shoved him forward.

“Go. Introduce yourself.”

Noya inhaled dramatically, stepped forward…

And immediately tripped on a volleyball.

But he rolled into a heroic kneel and punched the air.

“HELLO. I am Nishinoya Yū. Karasuno’s libero. I protect this team with spirit, passion, and my life.”

You blinked.

He sparkled with sincerity.

“Nice to meet you Nishinoya. I’m [Name].”

He ascended spiritually.

When you moved on to greet the others, he whispered to Tanaka

“I am going to faint.”

Noya didn’t stand a chance.

You laughed at something Kageyama complained about.

Noya clutched his heart like it was too much.

“I must marry her” he whispered.

“No you must not” Daichi warned.

Sugawara snickered. “Let him have his romance.”

Tsukishima stared blankly. “This is painful.”

Then you turned to Noya again.

“Shoyo talks about you a lot” you said. “You’re the rolling thunder guy, right?.”

Noya squeaked.

Actually squeaked.

“You think I’m cool?” he asked.

“Yeah. Shoyo adores you.”

Noya covered his face.

This was too much for one small libero.

You started showing up more often.

Each time Nishinoya reacted like someone discovering love for the first time.

You walked in

“Hi everyone.”

Noya choked on saliva.

Tanaka posed like a peacock.

Daichi prayed.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

One day you waited by the gate with two drinks.

Noya sprinted to you.

“Hi…”

“Hi Nishinoya. This is for you.”

“For me. Why. What did I do to deserve this.”

You grinned. “You work hard. And I like watching you play.”

Noya went completely still.

“You watch me?”

“Yeah. You’re amazing.”

“You think I’m amazing?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He stared at the bottle like it was a divine object.

Then he blurted

“Can I walk you to the gate?”

Daichi yelled from inside

“Stop flirting and clean up.”

Noya yelled back

“I am absolutely flirting.”

You burst into laughter.

He nearly fell to his knees.

Three weeks in and Noya was in a full Shakespeare arc.

And he narrated everything.

During warm ups

“The first moment I saw her…the wind was blowing softly…”

Tsukishima groaned. “Please shut up.”

Daichi snapped. “Focus.”

Noya continued, undeterred

“The sky had a different glow…”

Tanaka sobbed proudly.

“Noya-san…”

Asahi whispered, “Not again…”

Hinata screeched, “Don’t talk about my sister like that.”

Noya gasped.

“I speak of her with respect and passion and devotion.”

Daichi threatened benching.

Noya continued anyway.

Because you liked him back.

And he didn’t realize it.

It happened after practice.

You stood by the gate with your shy smile and two drinks.

“Hi Nishinoya. I brought you this again.”

“For me. Again. Are you trying to end my life.”

“You’re my favorite to watch” you said softly.

Noya’s soul left Earth.

“You…like watching me?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed.

“Like like watching me? Or like teammate like watching me?”

You inhaled nervously.

“Like. I like you.”

He dropped his drink.

“YOU…like me!?”

You nodded.

“Like LIKE like me?”

“Yes.”

He screamed

“CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!?”

You giggled.

“If you want to.”

He yelled to the heavens

“She said yes. God she said yes.”

Daichi dragged him away.

“Stop screaming outdoors.”

Hinata shrieked, “MY SISTER AND NOYA-SAN ARE DATING!?”

Noya stared at you like you were holy.

He was in love.

Tragically and beautifully in love.

Next day

Noya stood proudly.

“I have something to announce.”

Daichi sighed. “If this is about the wind—”

“[Name] is my girlfriend.”

Tanaka collapsed.

Hinata screamed.

Asahi looked terrified.

Sugawara cooed.

Tsukishima gagged.

Daichi whispered, “I hate this gym.”

Noya winked.

“No promises.”

You showed up more often.

Noya became ten times more dramatic.

He carried your bag.

Gave you jackets in summer.

Recited poetry that sounded like caffeine hallucinations.

“My love

Did you miss me

I missed you for two whole days

That’s an eternity for the heart.”

You kissed his cheek once.

He fainted.

Tanaka caught him like holding a fallen soldier.

Daichi begged you all to calm down.

But you adored him.

Every loud dramatic explosive bit of him.

One afternoon Noya stood on a bench.

“Gather around. I must tell you our love story.”

Daichi yelled, “No.”

He continued proudly

“The wind was blowing softly when I first saw her. The doors opened. She stepped in. The air shimmered. My heart exploded. My soul—”

Daichi threw a ball at him.

“Get down.”

Tanaka cried.

Tsukishima gagged, again.

“He's passionated abouther I guess.” Yamaguchi whispered.

Sugawara filmed.

Then you entered the gym.

Noya pointed at you with passion.

“There she is. My sun. My wind. My destiny.”

You walked up, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

Deeply.

Noya melted like jelly.

Tanaka fainted.

Tsukishima threatened to leave the country.

Daichi walked out of the gym muttering about retirement.

You laughed.

“That was for calling me your wind.”

He stared at you in awe.

“I will call you anything you want.”

“Good. Because you’re my boyfriend.”

Noya became the happiest man alive—in whole world. Legends says he's still preaching about 'His wind-ish ahh love story'.

Hope you liked it.LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Don't steal,copy,edit or use my works in any form without my permission.

Barelyalive out!